Archie had never been drunk before.

Sure, he had tried a drink or two after his twenty-first birthday, but he had quickly decided that alcohol wasn't for him. The constant buzz in his head, the gurgling of his stomach, the warmth that clung to the back of his jaw and danced across his ears. He didn't like it. The slower cognitive speed, the slurring and stumbling over his words, and the delayed response time. He didn't like it.

The lights of the club were invigorating as the beat of the thumping subwoofers found its way into Archie's body and moved his limbs along with it. Laughter echoed in his ears; some of it even sounded like his. Gangly limbs flailed about rhythmically, and cheering encouraged further display. He had even managed to find himself a tie at some point throughout the night; it was now wrapped around his head.

Archie was drunk.

But for the first time in his life, he didn't seem to mind. Harri was enjoying herself, dancing and laughing alongside him. The cute bartender kept topping up his drinks, and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Archie felt like he actually had a chance with her. Maybe alcohol really could solve all of his problems? He fell into a hypnotic trance, letting go of his thoughts as he became one with the music, distancing himself from everyone around him, and letting the warm feeling in his belly lull him into an idyllic place.

The music fell into a decrescendo, a hush falling over the dancefloor. Tension hung in the air before the tweeter suddenly started to build, a snare and high hat queued up the beat, before suddenly the entire club burst out in unison as the bass dropped.

"I'M NOT GRAY!"

The 'Calder City Blues' was a favourite track among the city's mundane population. Originally a viral clip from an interview at a horrific crime scene involving the abduction of three children under twelve, the mother had lamented, 'I'm not gray,' to the reporters seemingly unprompted, leading to numerous remixes. The most popular of which was of course 'Calder City Blues', a heavy house track by DJ R3TCH!D R@T.

You couldn't walk down Milk Street during the evening without hearing the familiar beat pumping from behind the doors of its various clubs. 'The Haunt' in particular was known to host R3CH!D R@T frequently, and tonight was one such event.

The strobing lights followed the resumed tempo, pulsing along with the meter as the dance floor exploded. Archie had never had this much fun in his entire life, but a strange sensation was washing over him. It started in his toes and went all the way to his head. The room began to spin, and he stumbled forward, pushing himself off a nearby support column before stumbling into a pair of women. He heard laughter again, but this time it sounded like it was only his, followed by the sound of shattering glass and curse-laden shrieks.

He needed another drink.

Approaching the bar, he managed to flag down another bartender, re-ordering the cocktail that Carmilla had made for him, although she was nowhere to be seen. He pouted into his drink, looking around for the buxom, raven-haired beauty, hoping to weaponize his liquid courage for the good of getting her number, or at least her 'Snapshot' handle.

"How many of those have you had?"

Harri suddenly appeared beside Archie, causing him to jump, spilling the drink in his hand before he sloppily bent down and slurped up as much as he could so as not to lose the magical elixir that was responsible for the thus far best night of his life.

"Only like three," Archie replied, holding up a hand with five splayed fingers. "I don't tell you enough how pretty you are."

"That's sweet, but you're very drunk. Not a good look, Mr. Hardwick." Harri shook her head, "You need water and grease, like yesterday."

"I need you, like yesterday," Archie replied, his words slurred as he attempted to playfully poke Harri, not realizing the force he put behind his finger. She winced, quickly pushing his hand away before Archie opened his mouth again, his glassy eyes batting eyelashes that looked like they came straight out of a Maybelline ad towards her.

"Our babies would be smart and beautiful."

"I'm more surprised you can still manage three-syllable words. What are you drinking?" Harri asked, taking the glass from Archie's hand before batting his hand away from petting her hair. She took a sniff of the glass before a small taste. Her eyes widened as she shook her head.

"Oh, hun, you are going to have the worst hangover. This is pure sugar." Harri replied, "We need to get you to a greasy spoon stat, coffee, bacon and water. That's all you're getting from this point on."

"But I want the magic juice," Archie pouted, piquing up as Carmilla reappeared behind the bar.

"How's my favourite customer?"

"He should be cut off." Harri interjected, putting herself between Archie and Carmilla, "Is he all settled up? We're about to leave."

"Oh," Carmilla replied, looking from Harri back to Archie, "Is this your girlfriend?"

Archie stared back at Carmilla; he hadn't previously noticed the colour of her eyes. The subtle hues of gray mixed in with her blue reflected the light of the club, giving them almost a supernatural violet glow. He felt drawn in, forgetting the question or Harri for a moment as he froze like a gazelle caught in a snare by a hungry lioness. The stillness of his mind was broken, his internal monologue waking up and snapping him back to reality.

Say something smooth, you idiot.

"Not if you're available," Archie replied, making a finger gun and following it with a clicking noise out of the side of his mouth.

"Sorry," Harri interjected, her jaw agape. "I've never seen him like this; he's pretty wasted."

"He is pretty," Carmilla replied, "I think he's cute."

"I guess," Harri shrugged, "If you're into that kind of thing." Her voice trailed off as she realized that Archie was hanging onto her every word. Scratching the side of her head, Harri looked at her feet, pursing her lips before tucking a strand of straightened hair behind her ear.

Archie stared at Harri. The side of his face twitched slightly. What did she just say? After all this time, he felt like a burden had been lighted, only it was a damper that just stoked a fire.

If you're into that kind of thing? Where does she get off? I've been buying her drinks all night. If you're into that kind of thing? What kind of thing does she think I am? She does realize I'm a person, a person with feelings, right? Feelings for her, especially. I thought we were friends and she doesn't even think of me as more than a thing?

"Uh," She cleared her throat, "We really do need to get you something on your stomach that's not sugar or liquor." Harri insisted, gently wrapping an arm around one of Archie's.

"No," Archie stated flatly before finishing the drink he held in his hand. His knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping the glass. Shifting his body, Archie turned away from Harri, hunching his back and looking straight down at the counter.

"No, I'm staying here, where people like me." He replied bitterly, pushing the empty glass forward for a refill.

"Archie, c'mon. You're drunk, you're not seeing things for what they are-"

"No, I think I'm seeing things pretty clearly," He snapped angrily. He slammed the glass down on the bar rail before standing up from the stool. Taking a step back, Archie stumbled, nearly falling to the floor before Harri caught him. Taking hold of the countertop, he shook her off before straightening his shirt and standing up.

"I've got to hit the head, don't wait for me." He stated, swaying back and forth as he did before spinning around and heading for the bathroom.

"I'm so sorry," Harri apologized behind Archie to Carmilla, "I've never seen him act like that."

"I don't think it's me you have to apologize to," Carmilla replied, cleaning a glass as she watched Archie walk toward the restrooms. "I'll watch out for him if you want to take off. Maybe give him some space until cooler and more sober heads prevail."

"Nah," Harri shook her head, "I think you've done enough for tonight."

Pushing through the crowd, Archie continued his way towards the washrooms only to realize the size of the line leading to the men's. Apparently, someone had managed to fudge their way through a code inspection since there was no way the bathrooms were undersized enough to cause a line of this length.

Shaking his head, he felt the need to urinate rapidly rising within him as his eyes darted back and forth across the club, looking for an alternative option. Seeing no other signs indicating a second bathroom, his eyes landed on an exit sign to the adjacent alley.

Hastily pushing through the crowd, Archie burst the door open, the cool night air doing him no favours before he ducked around a corner and found himself a secluded spot amid dumpsters and shadows. The zipper on his pants echoed in the quiet alley before being replaced by the steady stream of what felt like a firehose worth of piss he had to unload from his bladder.

Relief washed over Archie. There were few sensations he had experienced that felt better than this did in the moment.

"Yo!" The voice called angrily.

"What the #&$% do you think you're doing?" The familiar voice added. Archie shook himself out before zipping up his pants. Taking a step back to turn around, he soundly found his face smashed into the nearby brick wall.

And the world went black.

Ow.

His head was spinning. His vision faded in and out. The smell of vomit assaulted Archie's nostrils as he found the strength to push himself up. One side of his face felt like a cat had mauled it, while the other felt swollen, loose teeth, like he had been whalloped with a sledgehammer. He wiped his mouth, vomit staining the cuff of his shirt, while a fist dragged along the ground, retracting back to the rubber-like figure it belonged to.

"Pretty Boy ain't lookin' so pretty now."

Right, the @$$#@% from earlier.

Archie rubbed his jaw before turning to look at his assailant, his blood warm from the alcohol. He felt his own blood dripping down the side of his face while he surveyed the dark alley for an escape. He should have left with Harri; instead, he was about to experience the World Record for the shortest time with a spine.

"Does this look like a pisser to you, sweetheart?" Joe asked, as Archie shook his head. The problem was that he lost his filter somewhere in the club.

"Definitely looks like a toilet."

"Right," Joe laughed, winding his arm back before it suddenly shot forward, closing the gap and delivering a blow to Archie's abdomen. Unfortunately for Archie, apparently his stomach wasn't empty. That gag started in the back of his throat, before he exhaled harshly, followed by a retching gag. The limited contents of a mostly liquid dinner spilled onto the ground in front of him while his eyes saw stars. The smell of his own vomit caused a third gag while he tried to empty himself further.

His ribs felt like they were cracked, and his head was spinning. Hell, his testicles felt like they had retracted into his perineum. Five minutes ago, Archie had considered drinking regularly; right now, he was wishing for the sweet release of death. Luckily, it seemed like Jake and his Dragons might actually grant that wish.

"I forgot you were funny," Jake finished his statement. "Problem is, this is Dragon turf, and you're defacing Dragon turf."

"Safe to say I didn't hurt property values then." Archie retorted, immediately wincing at his own words.

Inside voice, go back inside now, kay?

"You've got a cajones on ya," Longo smiled, "Ya won't when they find ya body though."

"No?" Archie straightened up, "Probably because your mom's going to be gargling them."

You definitely should not have said that.

"Ain't nobody comin' ta save ya this time." Jake sneered, cracking his neck before pointing towards Archie. "Kill him." The order didn't exactly come as a shock, though cold-blooded murder felt like a slight escalation. In all of Archie's time in the District Attorney's office, he couldn't recall a single murder being attributed to the Dragons.

But that didn't mean he was going to stand here and wait to find out.

Archie pushed off from the wall, running as fast as he could out of the alley and onto the main street. A horn echoed past his head as he sprinted through traffic. If he had anything left in his stomach, he would have thrown up again. Behind him, the angry din of upset gangbangers echoed after him. But it was the one overhead that worried him the most as Jake used his Gray-abilities to sling shot himself through the air before flattening out and gliding above, easily over taking Archie again.

In his life, Archie had been in a grand total of three fights. The common denominator?

He lost. Everytime.

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The window shattered under Archie's weight. Glass shards flew across the floor while Archie crashed through a display. Numerous lacerations covered his body, pain felt like it was coming from everywhere. A metallic taste filled his mouth, barely noticeable between the numbness and lingering taste of his own vomit. Spitting, blood splayed across the cold wooden floor beneath him.

A pained groan escaped from between his lips as his body refused to respond to his insistence that he move.

"Archibald Hardwick..." The whisper felt like it crawled inside his head. His head whipped around side to side, crouching even lower to the ground as he continued to hide behind the bookshelf. The wooden floor creaked as the Dragons continued to look for Archie. He winced as a sudden crash echoed nearby. They were desperate to tear this place apart to find him.

"Hardwick..." The voice grew more persistent, "I can give you the power you desire."

"Archibald, accept my help!"